


The Veil Must Fall

by MaliceManaged



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon Divergence - Thor: The Dark World, Delusions, Dubious Morality, Gen, Hallucinations, Illusions, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Psychological Torture, halloween fic, of course, referenced Infanticide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 09:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16472852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaliceManaged/pseuds/MaliceManaged
Summary: Banished from Asgard for having the audacity to help save the universe, Loki finds himself in the care of a friend of Thor's while he convinces people who despise him not to imprison/kill him. The rules were quite simple: Don't break anything. Don't bother his hostess. Be on time for dinner. Stay away from the mysterious door hiding who-knows-what.... Well, three out of four isn't bad, right?Some doors, Loki (occasionally) of Asgard would come to learn, really should stay closed...





	The Veil Must Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't written in a while and suddenly this happens. Wanted to finish it in time for Halloween and, lo and behold, I actually succeeded. Happy Birthday to me, indeed.
> 
> The title is from 'Autophobia' by Stream Of Passion and parts of it actually inspired bits of the story. I do recommend a listen, it's a good song.

    The mansion loomed before them, dark and somewhat foreboding - although that may have been mostly the weather, which Thor denied having a hand in - and Loki looked up at its many windows and down at the well-kept grounds around them. He had no idea what had made his brother decide to drop him off there; even if he believed Thor when he said he wanted to keep him out of some midgardian prison called the Raft (and, really, what kind of a name was _that_ for a prison, anyway?), this seemed far too... well, _nice_ of an accommodation, given the current tumultuous state of their relationship. It was no palace, of course, but it was hardly humble.

 

    Thor grabbed his arm and stopped him just before they went up the steps to the front doors and regarded him seriously. “The Lady Emmalyn is doing me a great favour in letting you stay here; I expect you to be on your very best behaviour.”

 

    “Aren’t I always?” Loki said innocently.

 

    “Loki, this is serious. Don’t make me regret this.”

 

    “You might as well; everyone else has.” That... came out a bit more bitter than intended. Oh, well.

 

    Thor’s expression softened a bit and he moved his hand to Loki’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Father will come around.”

 

    “No, he won’t, and it doesn’t matter.” He shook Thor’s hand off and straightened his posture perfectly, every bit the prince he was (or wasn’t, depending on who you asked). “Let Odin hate me all he wants; the feeling is very much mutual.”

 

    Thor frowned a bit. “Loki; I know you and father have your differences...”

 

    “ _‘Differences’?_ Is that what you call it?” Loki asked incredulously. “The man stole me from my birth realm-”

 

    “He didn’t _steal_ you; he saved your life.”

 

    “He _would_ say that. All we have is his word and who is left to contradict it? Laufey is dead and I have no idea who my mother even is-”

 

    “You know who your mother is, and don’t you dare disrespect her memory by-”

 

    “Frigga _lied!”_ he practically hissed, “Just like he did.”

 

    Thor was silent for a moment. “It was supposed to be for your own good.” He had to believe that; every other option was just... not good.

 

    Loki scoffed. “And was it also for my own good to let us grow up fearing and hating the jötnar, thinking them all mindless monsters, knowing I would eventually have to be told I was one? It’s been years and I haven’t even been able to bring myself to find out how many of the stories are true.” Thor looked away, unsure what to say to that, and Loki sighed. “I loved her,” he said quietly and Thor looked back at him, “But she failed me just as much as the rest of you.”

 

    For a while neither of them spoke further, then Thor clasped the back of Loki’s neck and looked him dead in the eyes. “I won’t fail you again, brother.”

 

    “I highly doubt that,” Loki replied and Thor’s face fell a bit, before he smiled faintly, “But I’m still here, aren’t I?”

 

    Thor huffed a laugh and patted Loki’s neck affectionately. “That you are.”

 

    “Now, let’s get this over with; the sooner the introductions are made, the sooner you can leave and the sooner I can find a way out of this.” Thor gave him a _look_ and Loki rolled his eyes. “You used to be able to take a joke.”

 

    “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you have no intention of at least testing the boundaries?” Thor asked, arching an eyebrow. In response, Loki grinned ‘innocently’. “Exactly.”

 

    They walked up to the front doors and Thor was about to knock, when one of them opened to reveal a fairly tall young looking woman of tan skin, light amber eyes and dark hair pulled off her face into a simple yet elegant updo, dressed in a pale pink blouse and charcoal grey A-line skirt that reached just below her knees over black knee-high boots.

 

    “Thor,” she greeted with a slight smile before turning to Loki, “And you must be Loki.”

 

    “I must be,” Loki replied neutrally, wondering how much of his conversation with Thor she might have overheard.

 

    “Lady Emmalyn,” Thor greeted respectfully before shifting a bit, “How, ah... how long have you been there?”

 

    The smile widened just the tiniest bit. “Long enough,” she replied, giving nothing away, then gestured behind her to the doors, “Won’t you come in?”

 

    Without waiting for them, she turned and walked back inside. Loki looked after her then back at Thor dubiously, but Thor merely shrugged and gestured for him to go in first before following, closing the door behind him. The foyer was, in a word, immaculate, and though rather sparsely decorated it was quite inviting, maybe even warm. They followed after Emmalyn as she walked them through the various rooms on the ground floor at a somewhat leisurely pace while simultaneously laying out the house rules, which mostly involved refraining from damaging any property or otherwise being a nuisance to her, which was of course understandable and expected.

 

    “Most of the bedrooms are on the third floor,” Emmalyn said as they exited one of the sitting rooms (which she, in a brief show of levity, admitted to not being sure why there was even more than one, as how many sitting rooms does a person need, truly?), then addressed Loki directly, “I’ll show you which will be yours later, and I think it goes without saying that, barring an emergency, you are not to go into mine.”

 

    “Naturally,” Loki drawled boredly, earning an elbow to the ribs from Thor.

 

    “I sleep in most mornings,” Emmalyn continued unruffled, “As such, I tend to have a late breakfast. Should you wake before me, you may either wait and dine with me in the dining room, or call for your meal to be brought to your room; Mrs. Fallon, the cook, has been informed of your stay and won’t be bothered by it. Lunch may be taken at your leisure, either in the dining room or the gardens, simply let Mrs. Fallon or whoever is at hand know what you want. Dinner is at seven sharp; the staff leaves an hour after and there is no evening staff, so if you are late, you must serve yourself.” She stopped by a set of ornate doors and turned around to face them. “Thor tells me you enjoy reading?”

 

    “I do,” Loki replied a bit more interested, guessing what was likely behind the doors.

 

    Emmalyn’s lips twitched upwards briefly and she turned and opened the doors, revealing an expansive library filled with rows upon rows of books, and led the way in. “So long as you treat them with care and do not take them out of this room without my express permission, you may read whatever you like. If there is a specific book you want that I don’t have, let me know and I will see about acquiring it.” Loki blinked at that, not expecting such an offer, and she smiled that small smile again. “I’m of the firm belief that no one should be denied literature. It is a right, not a privilege.”

 

    “I see. Well, that is... good to know,” Loki said, mentally revising his preliminary opinion of the woman a bit. Anyone who cared that much about literacy couldn’t be _that_ bad.

 

    “That said; if anything happens to any of these books, you will not like the result.”

 

    Thor chuckled. “You have nothing to worry about there; Loki is almost obsessively careful with books. Always has been.”

 

    Loki glared at Thor before turning back to Emmalyn. “I can assure you, your books will be perfectly safe in my hands.”

 

    “Then we won’t have any problems,” Emmalyn replied pleasantly then gestured back towards the door, “Come along, then; there’s a few rooms to go.”

 

    She led them on through the rest of the rooms, mostly pointing out how to call upon the staff from each one or any features she deemed immediately relevant. As they were making their way back to the foyer, Thor handed Emmalyn the device which would both activate the ankle monitor Loki wore and send out a signal to the Avenger’s Tower should it be necessary. It was the one condition the team had firmly insisted on before they even agreed to discuss whether Loki would eventually stay with them as Thor wanted or not, much to his irritation; he greatly disliked the mere idea of being figuratively leashed like a dog. At the very least, he consoled himself with, the area he was allowed to roam spanned the entire mansion and grounds, up to the gates of course, so he wouldn’t exactly be that caged like he’d been on Asgard.

 

    Emmalyn turned to face them when they reached the front doors. “Now the most important rule of all, that you mustn’t break no matter what,” she spoke seriously, eyeing both men in turn to ensure she had their full attention, “There is a door at the end of the hall to the left on the fifth floor; you are not to go near it, for any reason. In fact, all of the rooms on that floor are empty, so there is no reason to go there at all.”

 

    The brothers exchanged a puzzled look. “May I ask why?” Thor asked.

 

    “You may not,” Emmalyn replied succinctly.

 

    “I see...”

 

    “Will this be a problem?”

 

    “Not at all; it is your home.”

 

    “It is my house, yes.” Loki arched an eyebrow at the subtle correction, but said nothing. “I’ll leave you to your goodbyes.”

 

    “You have my thanks, my lady.”

 

    “Keep them. You can thank me when this business is concluded.”

 

    With that, she walked away and left them alone. They watched her until she disappeared through the doorway leading towards the kitchen, then turned back to each other.

 

    “Curious woman,” Loki remarked.

 

    “She is,” Thor agreed, privately adding, _You have no idea just how much._ “I know you won’t be very inclined to do as I ask, but please try to behave.” Loki looked about to argue, or perhaps give one of the barbed retorts he was increasingly fond of lately, but Thor put a hand up and continued, “I get you do not wish to be here, but give it a chance; I’m sure if you do, you’ll come to like the lady’s company, and it is temporary in any case.”

 

    Loki scoffed. “You really think your friends will want me around for good? I brainwashed one of them and tried to kill most of the rest, to say nothing of the actual invasion I led.”

 

    “You also helped me to stop Malekith and save the universe from eternal darkness,” Thor countered, “That must count for something.”

 

    “Does it?”

 

    “Of course it does.” Thor looked down, closing his eyes briefly and taking a breath before looking back up. “Loki, I nearly lost you again. I will not lose you a third time. I cannot.”

 

    Loki’s brows furrowed. “‘Third’?”

 

    Thor smiled ruefully. “I may have been too blinded by selfishness to see it before, but when you let go was not the first time I lost you, was it?”

 

    Loki looked away, not quite sure what to make of that particular (surprising) bit of insight. “... No, it was not.”

 

    Thor looked as though he wanted to say something else, but ultimately clapped Loki’s shoulder and left, leaving him to stand there staring at the closed doors for a moment before turning and retracing his steps towards the library, fully intending to spend the rest of the day there, his hostess permitting.

 

    It wasn’t until his stomach protested its emptiness that he noticed the passing of the hours, and he made his way to the dining room after checking the nearest clock. Emmalyn was already seated at the head of the table when he arrived, and he took a seat to one of the sides, close enough to not appear rude but far enough to hopefully dissuade any attempts at conversation. She smiled a faint, knowing smile but said nothing as the footman came in with the cart containing their meals and served them. They ate in silence, Loki occasionally glancing at Emmalyn while she pretended not to notice.

 

    When the food was gone and the dishes cleared, Emmalyn stood, waited for Loki to stand as well, then led the way to the main stairs and up to the third floor. She turned to the right then stopped exactly six doors from the end of the hall, opening the door and gesturing for Loki to go in, remaining at the doorway once he did. The bedroom was very spacious, decorated in greens and blacks (which made him wonder if the room had been that way already, or if she had redecorated according to his penchant for the colours), with furniture of a polished dark wood and a rather large and ornate fireplace that was currently lit.

 

    “The door to your left leads to the en-suite, the one to your right to the closet. Thor failed to mention any wardrobe requirements, so you may speak to Mr. Sanders, the valet, should you need anything.”

 

    Loki’s brow furrowed a bit. “Do you not live here alone? May I ask why you would need to employ a valet?”

 

    “You may not.” Loki frowned but she didn’t elaborate further, expression remaining inscrutable. “I have things to attend to now, so I will leave you to your own devices. Goodnight.”

 

    Loki bowed his head slightly in response and she turned and walked away, leaving him with a million questions and no idea where to even begin trying to find answers. After removing the outermost layers of his armour, leaving him in just his undershirt and pants, and exploring every inch of the bedroom and adjoining rooms, he walked back out to the hall and began wandering into the other bedrooms, figuring the fact that Emmalyn had only placed hers off limits meant he was free to explore the rest. Each bedroom seemed to have its own colour scheme, which led him to conclude his own bedroom’s colours had been simple coincidence.

 

    Once he was done, he moved on to the fourth floor, only to find that quite a few of the doors were locked. Curious, he debated whether to ask Emmalyn - or perhaps one of the staff - about them in the morning or try to find out what lay behind on his own. It might provide him with some amusement to explore rooms he may not be allowed in without anyone’s notice. Then again, there might very well be nothing of interest in them; it was a very large mansion and only one permanent resident, after all. It could be that the rooms were simply empty. Still, even if that was case, solving the little mystery might be something to do.

 

    He was about to head back downstairs, when there was a loud bang somewhere above him that caused him to jump a bit and whip his head up in its direction. He was quite certain Emmalyn had headed towards her bedroom, not upstairs. It then dawned on him that he was on the left hall, which meant the sound came from the forbidden part of the house. He waited, standing utterly still, for a long while but no further sounds came and ultimately, with a final wary look up, he returned to the stairs and descended to the second floor, exploring the rooms there until he tired enough to go back to his bedroom and went to bed.

 

****

 

    Morning found Loki sitting on the window seat in his bedroom, turning a gold hairpin dotted with opal-like gems in his hands. It had been Frigga’s and she had given it to him when he was a boy, claiming it would protect him from the monsters that had plagued his dreams. It had been a lie, of course; the ‘nightmares’ had actually been psychic intrusions into his mind and what ended them was the shielding spell Frigga had placed on him, but he had been too young and so believed whatever his mamma said.

 

    He missed her, he wouldn’t deny it, at least not to himself, but their last conversation played over in his head and it _hurt._ Hurt more than the lies, more than the blindness, wilful or otherwise, of the growing instability of his place in his own ‘family’, more than the lack of judgement in making him king in the wake of Thor’s absence (what in the Nine had she been thinking, giving him the throne in the middle of a psychological breakdown?). Hurt even more than her not asking even once what had happened to him in the Void.

 

    _“Then am I not your mother?”_ she had said. As if holding his love for her hostage would make him take back the only healthy decision he’d made in years, instead of forcing his hand and making him say what they both knew was a lie, a lie he would have to carry for the rest of his life.

 

    One final betrayal.

 

    He wanted to hate her for it. Maybe he did.

 

    He still loved her.

 

    His attention was drawn to the window by movement outside, snapping him out of his thoughts; there below, the groundskeepers and gardeners tended to the large and really quite elaborate gardens. He watched them for a while until he grew hungry, then made his way downstairs towards the dining room. On the way, he ran into Emmalyn, who was dressed in much the same way as the previous day save that her blouse was blue and her hair was in a simple French braid running down her back.

 

    “Good morning,” she greeted politely, “I hope you slept well?”

 

    “Well enough under the circumstances, thank you,” he replied just as politely.

 

    “Thor told me you are banished from Asgard; should I offer my sympathies?”

 

    He frowned slightly then shrugged. “I suppose you could, if only for familiarity’s sake. Asgard and I were never really a very good fit, ultimately.”

 

    She hummed softly. “I know the feeling.”

 

    “Do you?”

 

    “I do.”

 

    He watched her for a moment as they sat at the table (this time choosing a seat closer to hers), still trying to decide what he thought about her. Once the footman served their breakfast and left, he turned back to her. “May I ask why so many of the rooms on the fourth floor are locked?”

 

    She looked up at him. “I see you did a bit of exploring, then.”

 

    “You did not forbid it,” he said, perhaps a _tad_ defensively.

 

    “No, I did not. Nor was it.” She went back to her food for a moment, savouring a mouthful of oatmeal, before looking back at him. “Mrs. Newgate, the housekeeper, locks most of the rooms in the fourth floor before she leaves for the day. They’re full of valuables, you see - artwork, antiques, the music room contains rather expensive instruments, that sort of thing - and she worries, bless her, despite how unlikely any sort of break-in may be. She will have unlocked them by now, if you’re still curious.”

 

    “Why not simply ask her to stop, then?”

 

    She chuckled lightly. “Why? It’s perfectly harmless and gives her peace of mind, and I have my own set of keys should I absolutely need to go into any of those rooms, besides.”

 

    He conceded the point, it did make perfect sense, and went back to his meal. When he was finished, he looked up at her again, debating himself until making a decision. “There was... something else.” She looked back at him questioningly. “While I was up there, there was a noise coming from the floor above.”

 

    She turned back to her plate. “The house settling,” she dismissed.

 

    He narrowed his eyes at her irritably. “I know what a house settling sounds like; that was not it.”

 

    She set her spoon down and looked up at him impassively. “It may as well have been. It does not concern you, and it does not change the rules. Are we understood?”

 

    He glared at her a moment longer then schooled his expression to neutrality. “Of course.”

 

    Once their dishes were taken away, she stood and, as before, waited for him to stand also. “I would suggest you take to the gardens, unless you wish to fully explore the fourth floor.”

 

    He arched an eyebrow. “Is that a command, my lady?”

 

    “Not at all, but the grounds staff does such a marvellous job with the gardens; it would be a shame not to enjoy them.”

 

    Loki nodded. “Perhaps I’ll do that, then.”

 

    He followed her to the door, where she paused and turned to look up at him. “You don’t understand how things work here, and I sense you dislike not understanding, but believe me, when I forbid something in this house, it is for very good reason. You are my responsibility; I take that very seriously.”

 

    He mulled her words over a bit then bowed his head respectfully. “Very well; as you wish,” after a moment’s hesitation, he figured he might as well add, “I apologise if I have overstepped.”

 

    She smiled a bit. “Only slightly, and you are forgiven.”

 

****

 

    Thor stopped by later that day to inform him that the other Avengers had agreed to house him in the Tower after all, but Stark wanted to make some changes to their security and such to keep him in check, and it would be a few more days at the least. He honestly didn’t mind; he had a strong feeling that his accommodations there would not be nearly as comfortable as they were in the mansion, and had even briefly entertained the idea of asking if he could just stay with the Lady Emmalyn, before dismissing that as an impossibility on several fronts.

 

    The next four days after his brother’s visit passed peacefully enough. Loki spent much time in the library (it really was a very good collection of books, on all sorts of subjects from all over the world) as well as the gardens enjoying the fresh air, and while Emmalyn wasn’t around him all that often, when she was they got along well. She was still a very odd woman as far as he was concerned, but as long as he respected her rules, she was pleasant company and an attentive hostess.

 

    He hadn’t brought it up again, but that noise he’d heard his first night there persisted. It was always the same; one single loud bang, and then nothing. The curiosity was eating at him, but good sense and the risk of discovery, and whatever the consequences of _that_ would be, kept him from going up to that floor. Still, he had to find out _some_ thing of what was up there or he might well go mad.

 

    He had tried asking the valet while arranging to acquire clothes for himself, but the man was either an uncommonly good liar (doubtful) or he had no idea what Loki was talking about. He had then asked the butler and the housekeeper, but the former refused to go against his employer’s wishes in order to tell him anything and the latter shut him down so forcefully, he might have been deeply offended if he didn’t recognise the fear behind the admonition. If nothing else, the reaction told him that whatever was going on in that forbidden room was nothing good. Which of course only made him _more_ curious.

 

    He was on his way downstairs for lunch on the fifth day when he heard the faint notes of a violin drifting down from the floor above and, curious, changed his direction accordingly. Coming to a stop at the doorway to the music room, he watched Emmalyn play a light melody he’d never heard before, eyes closed and swaying slightly to the music. She was really very good, and he smiled slightly at the slight furrowing of her brow as she concentrated on the notes.

 

    She was a beautiful woman, the Lady Emmalyn, in her own way; not very conventionally pretty, to be certain, but she had an elegance and dignity about her that was hard to dismiss, as though she knew her world and her place in it and was perfectly comfortable with both. Assuming it was an accurate assessment and not just a protective façade, he rather envied her that. It had been some time since he’d understood his place in life, let alone took any comfort in it.

 

    As the last notes faded out, Emmalyn opened her eyes and noticed Loki standing at the door. “Is there something you needed?” she asked as she turned to put the violin away in its case.

 

    “Oh, plenty, but nothing from you at the moment,” Loki replied lightly, earning a slight laugh. “That was lovely.”

 

    “Thank you,” Emmalyn replied with a pleased smile, the biggest he’d seen from her yet, “It was one of my sister’s pieces.”

 

    “You have siblings?” he asked curiously. She rarely spoke about herself, despite his attempts to learn more; the woman sidestepped and redirected inquiries with an expertise on par with his own, and he was more than a little impressed if he was honest.

 

    “I had eight; three older sisters, two older brothers, two younger sisters and a twin brother.”

 

    “‘Had’?”

 

    Her smile faded somewhat. “My parents disowned me,” she explained neutrally, “My siblings have never contacted me since then, so I assume I am dead to them as well.”

 

    “I’m sorry,” he offered, and she nodded her thanks for the sentiment, “You were close with them, before?”

 

    “We were inseparable, much to our nurse’s dismay,” she replied with a slight chuckle before straightening up, “But that is the past. Join me for lunch? I’m of a mind to take it in the garden today; it is a lovely day.”

 

    “So it is,” he agreed then stepped back and gestured down the hall, “After you, my lady.”

 

    She smiled again and led the way. It was, if Emmalyn let herself dwell on it, really quite refreshing to be treated with the reverence due her former station by someone not in her employment. It had been quite some time, though of course that was largely because nobody knew where she had come from or who she had been. Even Thor, who knew more than most, didn’t know the whole story. And truly, she preferred it that way for the most part; it kept people from prying too much into dangerous things. Still, it did bother her, serving as a reminder of what she had lost. Which in turn led her to think of the reason for it, which was never pleasant.

 

    She paused at the stairs and glanced up to the fifth floor for a moment before continuing down. Loki looked at her curiously but said nothing as he followed her, knowing his inquiries would not be welcome and not wanting to displease her. It would only make things unpleasant for everyone and that would just be pointless.

 

    After they had eaten lunch, they took a leisurely walk on the pathways winding through the gardens, discussing a book he had finished the previous night. It was an interesting, if disturbing, tale of secrets and monsters, and he had the idea to use it as a way to safely breach the subject of the fifth floor hopefully without her noticing. So far, though, he was unsuccessful, though the conversation was interesting enough to not be considered a complete loss.

 

    After a lull, he turned to her. “May I ask what happened between you and your parents?” he asked, not really expecting an answer but figuring he might as well try anyway.

 

    She was silent for a while longer, gently running her fingers over the petals of a violet flower he was fairly sure was not actually native to Midgard, which added to his list of questions, then looked up at him. “I made a choice they greatly disagreed with, mostly because doing so affected their standing with another family.”

 

    Loki tilted his head to the side a bit. “Marital arrangements?” he guessed.

 

    “I did not care very much for my intended, and refused to spend the rest of my life pretending otherwise.”

 

    “Understandable,” he nodded. After a moment, he added, “Your parents were wrong to choose their reputation over their own child.”

 

    “Yes, they were.” He got the impression she was not referring to just her own parents.

 

    “How much did Thor tell you about his parents and I?”

 

    “Only that you had a falling out over their concealing your true origins from you, which given your choice of words I now believe is a severe understatement.”

 

    He huffed a humourless laugh. “You have no idea.”

 

    They reached a bench in the shade of two flowering trees and she sat down, motioning for him to join her. “Enlighten me?”

 

    He hesitated, his first instinct as ever to refuse, but ultimately sat down, looking out before him. “Where to even begin?” he murmured mostly to himself. After a moment of trying to organise his thoughts, he took a breath and began talking.

 

****

 

    Loki stood in the middle of the room at the end of the left hall of the fourth floor (a fairly interesting gallery), the pocket watch he’d found in one of the sitting rooms on his third day there in hand, counting down the minutes. At exactly ten minutes past eleven, as it did every night, the loud bang sounded above him. He waited a few minutes. Then five. Ten. Twenty. But as with every night, no further sound came.

 

    He had tried using a bit of his seidr to pry into the room without having to go inside, but whatever was in there, or perhaps some sort of barrier without, repelled his attempts, and he didn’t want to use more power in case it should alert the lady of the house. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he didn’t want to find out what would happen if he was caught breaking the rules.

 

    But he _really_ wanted to know what was in that room.

 

    With midnight come and no sound but that of his own breathing and the faint ticking of the watch, Loki resigned himself to simply go to bed. He knew he would be back the next night. And likely the next. Once again, he found himself wishing Stark’s preparations at the Tower would be delayed further somehow, that he might have more time to solve the mystery.

 

    As he walked down the stairs he got the feeling he was being watched and looked up to see a shadowed figure standing at the balustrade by the stairs on the fifth floor, startling him enough to lose his footing and stumble. He managed to catch himself at the last minute on the handrail to avoid falling down the stairs and quickly straightened and looked back up, but there was nothing there. His grip on the handrail tightened as he debated whether or not to go up there to investigate, with the latter seeming the more tempting option, which in turn made him want to do the former more if only to prove himself wrong. In fact, he decided, he _would_ go up.

 

    His legs, however, had other ideas, as they refused his commands.

 

    Ultimately, he continued down to the third floor, turned right and made his way down the hall, passing by his bedroom and heading straight for Emmalyn’s. It took a while for his knocks to be answered; Emmalyn was dressed in a ivory nightgown with a deep red velvet dressing gown tied over it, her hair loose and a not very pleased expression on her face.

 

    “Who else is in this house?” Loki demanded, “And do not say ‘no one’, because someone was standing by the stairs on the fifth floor, watching me.”

 

    “It is midnight; you should not have been on the stairs at all,” Emmalyn replied crisply, “Go to bed, Loki.”

 

    Loki bristled. “Do not treat me like a child!”

 

    “Then do not behave like one,” Emmalyn countered with a single raised eyebrow.

 

    Loki’s jaw clenched as he fought the urge to do something both violent and incredibly stupid, and he forced himself to take a deep breath before speaking again. “What did I see up there?”

 

    “Nothing you need concern yourself with,” Emmalyn replied calmly. “I give you my word, Loki, nothing will happen to you so long as you stay away from the fifth floor.”

 

    “So there _is_ something dangerous up there.”

 

    “There is nothing there that involves you.”

 

    “There is, and that is why you send your staff away come evening,” Loki pressed, “They have no idea, do they? Save for Mrs. Newgate and Mr. Thompson.”

 

    Emmalyn was silent for a moment then sighed, realising he wasn’t going to let the matter drop without being told something. “And Mrs. Fallon,” she confirmed, “They were here from the start, so they know. Leave it be, for your own sake.”

 

    “I am not some defenceless mortal,” he snapped.

 

    “Neither am I,” she retorted, “Now go to bed.”

 

    He blinked in surprise and opened his mouth before deciding, wisely, that now was not the time to ask and closing it again. He muttered an apology for waking her then turned and walked towards his bedroom, stopping at the door and looking back to find she was watching him sternly. He walked inside and closed the door behind him, only hearing her door close almost a full minute later.

 

****

 

    He expected her to be displeased with him the following morning when he walked into the dining room for breakfast, but she simply bid him good morning as though nothing at all had occurred and turned back to a letter she was reading until their meal was served. He wasn’t quite sure if that was a good thing or not, though he didn’t feel like saying anything and finding out either way, and so he just followed her lead and ate in silence.

 

    As per usual, once the dishes were gone she stood an waited for him to stand also, prompting him to finally ask, “Why do you do that?”

 

    “Do what?”

 

    “Wait for me to stand before you leave the table.”

 

    She looked at him a bit oddly. “You are my guest; it would be rude for me to leave without you,” she replied as though it should be obvious. And perhaps, he considered, it was to her.

 

    “Of course,” he nodded, “Pardon my ignorance.”

 

    Was he sucking up to her? Perhaps. But if it worked...

 

    She breathed a slight laugh. “No, that’s quite alright. I can’t very well expect you to know my customs without being informed any more than I would know yours.”

 

    He followed her out and to the stairs before speaking again. “Lady Emmalyn; about last night-”

 

    She turned and cut him off with an upraised hand. “We do not speak of such things during the day,” she said firmly.

 

    He frowned then nodded sharply. She turned without another word and made her way up the stairs while he continued on to the library, picking up the book he had left on a side table and curling up in one of the window seats to resume reading.

 

    He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he heard a soft clearing of a throat and looked up to see one of the parlour maids standing a little ways away from him. “Yes?”

 

    “There is a phone call for you, sir, from your brother,” she informed him, “You may take it here if you wish,” she indicated the phone on a desk nearby, “Or in the kitchen.”

 

    He inclined his head in thanks and she curtsied and left. Marking the page he was on, he set the book down and stood, going over to the phone and picking up the receiver, hearing a faint click as the one in the kitchen was returned to its cradle. “Can’t be bothered to actually drop by this time, brother?” he said by way of greeting.

 

    Thor scoffed. “As if you actually wish me to.”

 

    Loki let out a soft laugh. “So, you _are_ capable of learning after all.” He could just _feel_ Thor rolling his eyes. “What is it, then? Have your friends finally come to their senses?”

 

    “Unfortunately for you, no, they have not,” Thor replied sarcastically. “I am simply calling to ask how you are doing.”

 

    “I’m touched,” Loki said half-jokingly, leaning back onto the desk, earning another scoff. “I am... fine.”

 

    “... That hesitation was not very reassuring, Loki.”

 

    Loki looked to the doors and sighed. “There is... something wrong with this place, but I have no idea what it is, and no one will tell me anything of use.”

 

    “Well, I am sure Lady Emmalyn has good reason for the secrecy,” Thor reasoned, “If there was a threat of harm, she would have said as much.”

 

    “She did,” Loki said, “Or, at least, she may as well have.”

 

    “Meaning?”

 

    Loki cast another look at the doors. “I... saw something last night, on the fifth floor, as I was making my way to my bedroom. When I told her about it, she simply told me to stay away from there and nothing would befall me, implying whatever it was, was dangerous.”

 

    “Well, the solution is simple, then, is it not? Just do not go up there.”

 

    “And I am just expected to trust that will work?”

 

    “It has worked for Lady Emmalyn, hasn’t it?”

 

    “You are not the least bit concerned?”

 

    “I didn’t say that, but I trust my friend; if she assures you it is safe, I believe her.”

 

    “And if she is wrong?”

 

    Thor was silent for a moment. “Are you... scared, brother?”

 

    Loki immediately bristled. “I am not!” he snapped indignantly.

 

    “Loki...” he stopped and instead sighed, “Alright. It will not be long, brother; just another day, two at the most.”

 

    “Oh, joy,” Loki drawled sarcastically. “If that is all, I’d like to return to my book.”

 

    Thor snorted lightly. “Of course you would. We’ll speak later.”

 

    “I cannot wait,” Loki deadpanned then hung up before Thor could reply.

 

    He tried to return to his reading, but Thor’s implication that he was scared chafed a bit. More so because it was... perhaps not entirely inaccurate. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he was _scared,_ exactly, but seeing that shadow, whatever it was, had left him feeling a bit unsettled, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t encountered dangerous creatures before, after all.

 

    So why had a mere shadow made him so nervous?

 

    After re-reading the same sentence for the fifth time, Loki heaved an annoyed sigh, marked his place again and stood. Maybe a walk outside would clear his head, he mused. With that in mind, he made his way out to the lawn, meandering across the grounds and eventually making his way to the gardens. He stopped by one of the benches and sat down, staring out at a fairly sized artificial pond a ways before it, watching the slight ripples that formed as the fishes within swam up to the surface.

 

    It was really quite peaceful out there. It was... nice. Breathing in deep, Loki closed his eyes and tilted his head back, enjoying the sun on his face. Part of him still couldn’t believe he was out more or less free, having fully expected to be back in a cell in Asgard if Odin didn’t decide to simply have him executed like he so wanted to with no Frigga to stop him. After a while he felt eyes on him, and opened his eyes and looked back down and around him, but he was, for the moment, alone there. Remembering the previous night, he slowly, almost reluctantly, turned around and looked towards the house, eyes searching until they reached the windows of the fifth floor.

 

    Nothing.

 

    He breathed out in relief, and then felt incredibly silly. For all he’d said he wasn’t a child, he was certainly behaving like one, cowering from shadows. It was downright shameful.

 

    And then something moved within the forbidden room, and he leapt to his feet. His eyes searched as best they could from such a distance, but nothing else stirred. The unease returned, and with it a flash of anger. At the shadow for unnerving him so, at himself for letting it, at Emmalyn for refusing to tell him anything. He clenched his hands into fists and set off on a determined course back into the house, fully intending to go up there and face this creature, whatever it was. Once inside the house he marched straight to the main stairs, taking the steps two at a time, only to stop short at the fourth floor as he came face to face with Emmalyn, her arms crossed at her chest and expression blank save for a single raised eyebrow.

 

    “Going somewhere?” she asked almost tonelessly.

 

    Loki drew himself up to his full height and glared at her. “I will _not_ hide from shadows like some helpless child. If you will not provide answers, I will find them myself.”

 

    “You will do no such thing,” Emmalyn said sternly, “This is _my_ house, and you will follow _my_ rules. It is for your own safety.”

 

    “What have I to fear from a mere shade?” he snapped, taking a step closer but she didn’t budge an inch, “You have no idea the things I have seen, the monsters I have faced.”

 

    “That is precisely why you need to stay away.”

 

    “What does that _mean??”_

 

    “I told you; we do not discuss such things during the day.”

 

    _“When_ do we discuss it, then? Because you were in no hurry to say anything last night. Or any other night since the first time I heard the noise.”

 

    “I do not owe you any explanations,” she snapped coldly, “You are a guest here, _at best,_ and it does not concern you. All you need to do is do as I say and you will be perfectly safe. I will not warn you again, Loki; stay away.”

 

    Loki’s fists were clenched so tightly, he could barely feel his nails digging into his palms anymore. After a long, tense moment, he sketched a stiff half bow. “As you say,” he bit out, then turned and descended the stairs, making his way back outside.

 

****

 

    The bang sounded again, loud enough to be heard even in his bedroom, and he glared up at the ceiling then turned onto his side in bed, determined to ignore it.

 

    Half an hour later, he huffed in annoyance, threw the covers aside and stood.

 

    He kept his steps as light as he could, diverting a bit of Power to keeping the floorboards from creaking as extra assurance, throwing glances at Emmalyn’s door every so often until he made it to the stairs. He didn’t let his eyes stray from the steps in front of him as he climbed up to the fourth floor; only when he stood on the landing to the fifth floor did he look up, and immediately startled back a step from the shadow that stood there.

 

    It didn’t have eyes that he could distinguish, but he could _feel_ it leering at him, and he swallowed a bit. “What are you?” the words came out just barely above a whisper, which, dammit, was not how he intended them to.

 

    The figure didn’t so much as twitch, unnerving him all the more. He blinked and the shadow shifted just the slightest bit, a malicious far too wide smile stretching across its featureless face, sending a shiver down his spine. A slight creak from below turned his attention away for barely a moment, but when he looked back up the figure was gone. He thought about forgetting the whole thing and going back to bed; it seemed so very appealing an idea. Instead, he dug his nails into his palms, using the pain to ground himself, gripped the handrail tightly enough to turn his knuckles white, and took a step up. Then another. And another. It felt like an eternity, and he was trembling slightly by the time he took the last step onto the fifth floor, but make it he did.

 

    It was terribly dusty up there, as the maids were not allowed up to clean, and cobwebs hung everywhere, but it seemed completely empty. He wasn’t about to trust appearances, though, and called seidr to his hands, ready to be used at a moment’s notice. Looking around, he took a first cautious step forward. When nothing happened, he took another step, then another. He allowed himself to relax half a fraction and walked further into the hall, turning right first and telling himself he was merely being thorough in his investigation, _not_ stalling.

 

    Poking his head into a few rooms confirmed they were in fact empty as Emmalyn had claimed that first day, save for spiders, presumably, give the amount of spider webs present. The shadow hadn’t made an appearance as of yet, and he wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or concerned by that. He kept his senses trained just in case, but everything was still. Eerily so, in fact. It was not a reassuring thought.

 

    A shuffle behind him had him whirling around, summoning a dagger into his hand and raising it in preparation to throw, only to freeze in place as he registered the fact that it was Odin standing on the other end of the room, Gungnir in hand and expression unreadable.

 

    But... that couldn’t be right, could it?

 

    “What...?” he breathed out.

 

    “I should have known banishment was not good enough punishment,” Odin said coldly, “I let grief blind me. The only justice fitting for a monster such as you is death!”

 

     He raised Gungnir and aimed straight at him and Loki flinched instinctively, closing his eyes and preparing for his end, knowing there was no way he’d be able to block against that. When seconds passed and nothing happened, Loki risked opening his eyes to find the room was empty and let out a shuddering breath.

 

    An illusion. Of course.

 

    He mentally chastised himself for falling for it. Odin would never set foot on Midgard for something so trivial as him, even if it was to kill him. A sharp shake of his head, and he walked out of the room, looking around him as he shored up his mental defences for the slightest movement. He opened another door to find Thor rushing at him, hammer poised to strike, and he twitched back half a step before gritting his teeth and stepping right through the projection, causing it to vanish.

 

    “You will not trick me again, shade,” he declared firmly, “Now face me.”

 

    “What would that prove?” He turned to see Laufey looming over him with an expression of distaste. “You are nothing but a worthless pest. I should have simply killed you myself and spared the realms the burden of enduring you.”

 

    Loki grit his teeth and threw a wave of energy out with his free hand, dispelling the illusion. “Yes, well; little late for you to rectify that.”

 

    He walked through the rest of the rooms on that side of the floor without incident, leaving him no choice but to go towards the door to the forbidden room. The rooms lining either side of the hall were as empty as the rest, though the closer he got to the Door the more oppressive the air seemed to become. Two doors away from the end of the hall he heard a noise coming from inside the room, and he cautiously opened the door, a sharp gasp escaping him as he looked in. There on the middle of the floor lay Frigga, a sword by her feet and blood pouring from a wound on her chest, pooling around her.

 

    _Not Frigga. Just an illusion,_ some part of his mind hissed futilely as the dagger fell from his hand and he rushed towards her, dropping to his knees by her side with a shaky cry of, “Mother!”

 

    Her eyes turned to him as she took gasping breaths and narrowed. “You,” she spat with a coldness he’d never before heard in her voice, much less directed at him, and he leaned back a bit in shock, “ _You_ did this.”

 

    “N-no,” he managed, “No, I-”

 

    “You helped that creature,” the Frigga-who-was-not continued over him, “This is your fault.”

 

    “I ne-... never meant...”

 

    “We never should have taken you in.”

 

    He let out choked sob. “No, mother; you... you can’t mean that.” He reached a hand towards her, only to find it had turned blue, that hated blue of his kind, and immediately pulled back, bringing both up to his eye level.

 

    “A monster has no place among people.”

 

    Loki screwed his eyes shut and clenched his fists tightly enough for his nails to break the skin. “This isn’t real. She would never say that.”

 

    He opened his eyes to find himself alone again and all but collapsed forward, catching himself on his hands, ragged breathing dissolving into sobs that racked his whole body and caused him to curl up into himself on the floor.

 

    He didn’t know how long he lay there staring off at nothing after his tears finally ran out, but eventually he pulled himself to his feet shakily, wiped his face with his sleeve, and turned to leave the room, determined to see this through. He made his way to the Door and stood before it.

 

    “Enough tricks,” he said steadily, reaching a hand toward the doorknob, “I’m still standing, even through your worst.”

 

    “Was it that?” The voice behind him made him freeze, his throat seizing and heart pounding in terror.

 

    It couldn’t be.

 

    _He_ couldn’t be here.

 

    “Did you really think you could escape me, little asgardian?”

 

    It wasn’t real.  It wasn’t.

 

    A chuckle. “I warned you what would happen if you failed me. I promised a fate worse than death, worse than pain. Did you not wonder what that would be?”

 

    A trembling breath passed Loki’s lips and he fought to reclaim it, to no avail.

 

    _Not real. Not real. Not real._ The words repeated over and over in his mind frantically.

 

    Slowly, inch by excruciating inch, he turned around to face Thanos, and it was only the door at his back that kept him upright.

 

    _Not real not real not real not fucking real_

 

    The Titan made his way towards him, and every step he took made it harder for Loki to breathe through his panic; by the time he stood before him, he was all but hyperventilating, which Thanos seemed to find amusing.

 

    “Now, now; no need for such a reaction,” he said with mocking gentleness, “I might be willing to give you one chance to atone for your mistake. Would you like that?”

 

    Loki tried to keep his incredulity from showing and was marginally successful. “And what would...” he faltered then drew in as deep a breath as he could manage and tried again, “What would I need to do?”

 

    Thanos leaned down closer to him and Loki was quite sure he was about to pass out. “Open the door and find out.”

 

    Loki blinked. “The... The door? Is that what this is about?”

 

    Thanos’ brows raised at his slight change in demeanour. “Or I could simply allow the Maw to toy with you some more. Your choice.”

 

    At the mention of Ebony Maw, Loki’s growing certainty that this was but another disturbing but ultimately harmless illusion shattered and he flinched. “No! No, that... will not be necessary.”

 

    The Titan smiled, a gesture that was simultaneously condescending and unsettling, and stood back up. “I thought so.” He raised a hand and Loki flinched again, but he merely gestured at the door. “In you go now.”

 

    Every instinct in him was telling him not to turn his back on Thanos, but he didn’t truly have much of a choice, and so he pulled himself away from the wood of the door and turned around. His hand was shaking as he reached for the doorknob and it took a few tries to successfully turn it, but he managed. Taking one last shuddering breath, he pushed the door open and stepped through.

 

****

 

    Emmalyn’s eyes snapped open, dragged out of her sleep as suddenly as if ice water had been thrown on her.

 

    The Door had been opened.

 

    With calmness a sharp contrast to her awakening, Emmalyn sat up, pulled the covers aside and got out of bed. She went into her closet, running her fingers over her blouses before selecting a deep red silk one, picked out a black skirt and boots, then walked back to her bed and laid it all out on it. She slipped out of her nightgown and got dressed in precise movements, went to sit at her vanity and brushed her hair out before tying it up in a simple updo in the absence of her lady’s maid. She forwent any make-up, deciding it would be a waste of effort under the circumstances. That accomplished, she stood, straightened her shoulders and left her bedroom, heading to the stairs and climbing up to the fifth floor, and down the left hall, in calmly measured steps.

 

****

 

    He was expecting pain, had braced for it, and the lack of follow through left him a little disoriented. All his senses were overloaded, and so he didn’t immediately register the scene that lay before him. The room, unlike the rest of the floor, was not empty of furniture; his darting eyes took in a desk on one side and a few bookshelves, toys strewn all over the floor that seemed intended for an infant, a changing table and an intricately carved crib, a fraying canopy draped over one half from a broken hanging. Eventually his eyes fell on the far side of the room before him, in between two of the large windows, and the figure standing against it.

 

    No, he realised slowly with a rising feeling of nausea... the figure _fused to the wall._

 

    It took every ounce of his will to take a step forward; as he did, the figure twitched slightly, the long unkempt blond hair that fell over most of their ashen face fluttering a bit with the movement, and Loki tensed in preparation.

 

    Nothing happened.

 

    He swallowed a bit, though that did little to alleviate the lump of anxiety lodged there, and took several more steps, expecting... _something_ to jump out at him at any moment. The creature in the wall made no further movements, even when he stood a mere four feet away from it. He leaned forward a bit, trying to get a closer look without actually getting any closer, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice spoke behind him.

 

    “So, you have succeeded,” Emmalyn said tonelessly.

 

    Loki whirled around, mouth open to... what? Apologize? Demand an explanation? Scream? He had no idea. Then he realised Emmalyn wasn’t looking at him, but rather through him to the creature behind.

 

    “It was cruel to use him, but I suppose I should not expect any better from you.” Her eyes flitted to him. “I warned you. You did not listen.” He flinched slightly at her disappointed tone. “By the look of you, further punishment is unnecessary.”

 

    “What...” he swallowed, “What is going on here, Emmalyn?”

 

    “ _Lady_ Emmalyn, if you please.”

 

    “ _Lady_ Emmalyn,” he corrected mostly unconsciously, and a corner of her lips twitched upwards briefly. “Please, I need... I need to know...”

 

    Emmalyn walked further into the room to stand beside him, eyeing the creature in the wall with thinly veiled disgust and a cold hatred that sent a shiver through him. “You stand before my revenge.”

 

    The creature seemed to react to her proximity and jerkily lifted its head, revealing it (at least once upon a time) was a man; his face was sunken, skin seeming brittle, and his light eyes were bloodshot and devoid of the warmth of life. Loki took an instinctive step back.

 

    “I left my family, my home, my entire life behind for _you,”_ Emmalyn spat at the man, whose features twisted as if her words pained him, “And you betrayed me.”

 

    Loki sensed movement out of the corner of his eye and looked over to find the shadow from the hall standing in a corner of the room; even without a face, he could feel the anger radiating from it and he reached out to grasp Emmalyn’s sleeve, either to alert her or pull her away, he wasn’t entirely sure.

 

    Emmalyn looked down at his hand on her arm then up at his face before following his gaze to the shadow and narrowing her eyes. _“Leave,”_ she all but hissed at it, “You have no power here, coward.” The shadow smiled again, that too wide smile, and she felt Loki’s fingers twitch on her arm. “I said _leave._ I will not ask again.”

 

    It lingered for a moment longer then stepped back and dissolved into the darkness of the room. She heard Loki breathe out in relief and looked back at the man in the wall, who was still facing her, still looking pained.

 

    His mouth fell open and a rattling breath passed his dry, chapped lips. “Mercy...” the voice seemed to come from deep within his throat, as his lips hadn’t moved, so hoarse as to be inhuman.

 

    Emmalyn stepped forward, Loki’s fingers slipping away as he flat out refused to move with her, and the man’s features twisted further in pain. “Mercy?” She took a step further, earning a stuttering gasp. “You brought this on yourself.” Another step. “I gave you everything.” Another step, a moan. “Everything I had.” Another step. “Everything I was.” Another step, a pained keen. “And you spat it back in my face.”

 

    “Mercy,” the man groaned.

 

    Emmalyn stopped directly before him and leaned in close. _“No,”_ she said, so quietly vicious it made Loki’s skin crawl.

 

    “Mercy...”

 

    “You broke everything we built, and for what? Their favour?” she raised a hand and ran the tips of her fingers down the man’s cheek, leaving behind grooves as her nails peeled the skin off, “As if they would ever give it to a human; you are nothing to them.”

 

    “Mer-” Her hand flew up again and wrapped around his throat, choking off the word.

 

    “You deserve _nothing_ from me but my _pain!”_ she hissed, “My _rage!_ You took my life; I _will_ have yours! Every second you have spent here is but a fraction of what you owe. Your ghost will not save you. You owe us eternity and we will have our due.”

 

    “We?” Loki didn’t realise he’d spoken the question aloud until Emmalyn looked back at him. Her gaze flitted to the side of the room and he followed it to where the crib stood, the obvious conclusion dawning on him in moments. “You had a child.”

 

    Emmalyn released the man’s throat and walked over to the crib, tracing her hand over the side and looking down into it longingly. “She was perfect,” she said softly, “And half human. Half mortal. A powerful sacrifice.” Loki grimaced, having a fairly good idea what the man in the wall had done, and better understanding of the depths of Emmalyn’s hate. She looked up at him. “He wanted power. Power only my parents, my kind, could give. Naturally, there was a price.” Her hand clenched tightly enough around the wood that it creaked in protest. “They lied, of course; they only meant to punish me for defying them, or else cause me enough pain that I would return to them for comfort. It hardly matters why.”

 

    “So you punish him,” he glanced at the man in the wall. She nodded. “And the shadow?”

 

    “Fear.”

 

    “His?”

 

    “Everyone’s. The visions aren’t real.”

 

    Loki sagged a bit with relief, having desperately hoped that was the case. “That’s why you warned me away.”

 

    “You didn’t listen.” There was that disappointment again. He tried not to flinch.

 

    “I’m sorry.”

 

    She arched an eyebrow. “Yes, I am sure you are.”

 

    Loki’s gaze turned back to the man in the wall briefly before returning to her. “What happens now?” She looked back at him questioningly. “I broke your most important rule, I know what you keep up here; surely there will be consequences for that?”

 

    “As I said, I believe your mind has punished you enough already.” She smiled slightly, a sharp little smile that was vaguely unsettling. “And you will tell no one of anything you have seen here, besides.”

 

    “... No, I do not believe I will.”

 

    “Now, off to bed with you; I would have time alone with my husband. The ghost will not trouble you further.”

 

    Loki shuddered, both at her implied intentions and the reminder of his previous ‘trouble’, glanced once more at the man then turned and walked out of the room. He hesitated a bit just outside the door, but when no visions came, he relaxed a fraction and all but fled down the stairs, not slowing until he was back in his bedroom with the door firmly closed behind him.

 

****

 

    He didn’t sleep in what little night remained. How could he? He could barely keep from dissolving into panic at the merest thought of what the shadow had shown him, and some part of his mind was still very much convinced everything around him was an illusion and he hadn’t escaped Thanos’ grasp after all. It wouldn’t be the first time the Titan had let him believe he had.

 

    By the time the coming daylight reached his spot sitting with his back against the door and his knees pulled up against his chest, he had managed to convince himself the visions were lies and he was safe, but that didn’t make him feel much better if he was honest. He suspected it would be a while before it did. Eventually he made himself get up and take a bath before going downstairs for a breakfast he had to force himself to eat. Emmalyn wasn’t there, nor was she in her bedroom, or else she was ignoring him, which he rather doubted. He went out to the gardens and sat on the ground before the pond, watching the colourful fishes swim by and steadfastly not even glancing back at the house, much less the fifth floor.

 

    He wasn’t sure how long he sat there before he felt a presence behind him and stiffened, looking over his shoulder and relaxing when he saw it was Emmalyn. “Good... afternoon?”

 

    Emmalyn chuckled softly. “Quite.” She walked up to his side and gracefully lowered herself to the ground, placing her hands on her lap and looking at him, head tilted to the side. “Thor called. He is on his way; it seems Mr. Stark’s preparations are complete.”

 

    He looked ahead once more and nodded absently, resisting the urge to laugh hysterically. One day. If he had only waited _one more day..._ “I see,” he finally said, “Thank you for letting me know.”

 

    There was silence for a while as she turned to look at the fishes as well, until she broke it. “Ask.”

 

    He raised his head to look at her. “Pardon?”

 

    “You have a question. Ask it.”

 

    “... Is it worth it?”

 

    She looked at him and smiled. “No. But it’s better than the alternative.”

 

    He nodded and they turned back to the pond. After a while he reached over and placed a hand atop hers. She made no move to acknowledge the action, but he was sure she wasn’t displeased by it, so he let it remain until Mr. Sanders came out to inform them Thor had arrived.

 

    Thor could tell something was off when they walked into the foyer to meet him, but as he doubted Loki would actually tell him anything until they were alone (if at all), he made no mention of it. “Lady Emmalyn,” he greeted with a smile then added jokingly, “I hope he wasn’t too much of a nuisance.”

 

    Loki scoffed. “Excuse you; I am a model guest.”

 

    Thor rolled his eyes. “Of _course_ you are; that must be why you’re forbidden to set foot on Nidavellir.”

 

    “Well, it’s hardly _my_ fault dwarves are so easy to trick.” That earned him a chuckle.

 

    Emmalyn smiled slightly as Thor turned to her. “He behaved,” she said simply.

 

    Thor narrowed his eyes slightly, the fact that she didn’t specify _how_ not escaping his notice, before he looked at Loki once more. “Well, whenever you’re ready, brother.”

 

    Loki let out a sound that was almost a giggle. “In that case; we’ll never get anywhere.” Thor let out a resigned sigh, realising he’d walked right into that one. Loki looked back at Emmalyn. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to perhaps visit again.”

 

    Emmalyn raised an eyebrow. “So long as you call beforehand.”

 

    “Of course.” He bowed, surprising Thor. “I thank you for your hospitality, my lady.”

 

    She smiled, obviously pleased by the display. “You are most welcome.”

 

    “Thank you for this, my lady,” Thor said sincerely, “I am in your debt. If ever you need me...”

 

    “I will be sure to call on you,” Emmalyn assured politely, knowing better than to remind him she had not and did not expect recompense for this particular favour.

 

    With one final bow, the brothers made their way outside. Thor glanced over at Loki somewhat curiously. “So, you liked the lady after all, then?”

 

    Loki shrugged. “She is agreeable company for the most part and has a large library; it’s not that complicated.”

 

    “But you still think her odd?”

 

    “She _is_ odd.” That caused Thor to laugh before agreeing.

 

    He felt eyes on him, and truly didn’t mean to, but before he could stop himself he looked behind him at a window on the fifth floor. There stood the shadow and even from his current distance he could see that too wide, malicious smile stretch across its face, causing his breath to hitch.

 

    “Loki?” He looked over to see Thor eyeing him worriedly. “Is something wrong?”

 

    Loki forced a smirk. “Only the prospect of having to put up with your constant presence again.”

 

    Thor looked sceptical for a moment, then huffed and resumed walking. Loki looked back at the window, but it was empty again and he exhaled softly and followed after Thor, ignoring the lingering feeling of dread looming over him.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment. Author is a needy bean and I could use the validation. Consider it a birthday present! XD


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